


The End My Child

by MidnightsNightmares



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightsNightmares/pseuds/MidnightsNightmares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They never thought they could do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End My Child

Justice.

Against those who are evil, the first proper step you must take to obtain justice is to first find the person who committed a crime. Then, bring them to trial before a judge and jury. And then after the verdict, punish them how you see fit. However a court system to five six year old children were empty, confusing, and unsuitable to their tastes. It would have to be mended and twisted to where they could understand how it all processed. They didn't want to give _him_ the chance to speak, seeing as he had already been brought before those who would decide how he would be dealt retribution. Especially after their limbs were so stiff that they couldn't physically bring themselves to struggle out of the distorted and broken places their bodies had been forced in (even if it was a necessity).

And it brought hate.

It was bitter hate. From the second all of them fell out of those broken, old and disgusting suits by force and watched as the man ran away, it was like it all clicked together in their tiny brains. Their bones popping and skin layered with a thick coat of dirt and grime, and not to mention the old dried blood that had long ago stained. Scrubbing couldn't remove their smell - the smell of death, rotting teeth and flesh. It wasn't unpleasant, like it had been at first when they saw their bodies dissolving before their very eyes. 

He was the last to wake. He'd pushed himself off of the floor, his tiny dirty thumb in his mouth, just like before when he could still run up to his mama, throw his arms around her as she slid her arms under his thighs and pick him up gently. Kissing his forehead, her voice ringing sweetly in his ears as he was laid down for a nap when he got home from a fun day at school, giving her the picture he drew before a warm blanket covered his body and her mellifluous voice sang him his favorite lullaby.

His mama wouldn't be proud of him now. Or rather she was grieving still in his bedroom, clutching his favorite bear in her right hand while the left held his blanket. Even if he wasn't there beside of her, he could feel her pain. And it fueled the anger inside of him. 

So he let his old, hard bones carry him through out the festive dusty place. No shadow dared jump out at him, but rather respected his tiny moving body and they themselves giving him the proper mourning he deserved. The shadows once tried to ease his pain but when they felt the hurt in his heart, they knew there was nothing more they could do but grieve his own life with him. He felt tired. He wanted to nap. But it was like his eyes were pinned open, though he could blink stiffly. He wanted to go home. He wanted his mama. He wanted his soft blanket and he wanted to be picked up again. However, the brutality of the reality was even obvious to him. He knew he had been killed. He had enough sense. They all did. All of their mamas were hurting, and dads angry as they pounded their fists against the table at dinner time and ask why it had to be their kid.

He wouldn't stand for it. He wouldn't allow the perpetrator to bring despair upon people who hadn't begged for their loss. 

Punishment needed to take place. Some of them, his friends, were already free. They, however, had one last task before he could ease himself into the bright light he'd seen so many times before while wondering around the dark place at night.

He stopped whenever his foot accidentally kicked a rusted metal arm on the ground. His eyes raised ahead, hearing a sort of commotion coming in the near distance. Panic. Screaming. And broken. He could see them. They turned their heads towards him, their eyes red and bags under the once flawless skin. She in the pretty yellow dress gave him a sort of concluding look. He could see someone behind him. He knew he had been late, as it seemed their judging had already taken place in the little system they formed. So he moved forward, slowly, stepped respectfully over their temporary bodies (though they already lay broken), and entered the room.

It was dark. It wasn't familiar like the rest. Because of his own temporary body, he had his own limits and restrictions, despite the fact he'd tried countless times to enter. However seeing the empty temporary body lying on the ground, the Purple Man already beginning to back his own body up against the wall as much as he could, flat against it. He was panting. And he looked no crazier then an ordinary man would.

Curses that the boy wouldn't ever dare to use flew out of his mouth. Since the judging had already taken place, and the verdict made long ago, they had let him have the honors to place his punishment. However he wasn't sure what exactly he should do to deal with the speck of dirt this man was. The Purple Man moved quick and fast, seeing as the moment the boy's slow and sloppy foot steps got even three feet away from him, he'd run to the other side of the room, then to the doorway, back up in realization that there was no escape before he shouted and yelled that 'you brats won't give up'.

"Pu..." the boy spoke around his thumb, dripping with a bit of saliva and onto his shirt, "...nish...ment..."

Cornering him was becoming difficult, but it was quick. The Purple Man ran to the other side of the room, to the temporary body and in seconds had the lower body of the suit on, and then the upper, before he slipped the head on. However, though loud insane laughter bubbled from within, when the sound of a loud echoing pop was heard, and the man choked on his own spit and air reached his little ears, the boy with little effort felt a small smile twitch on his cold lips. The blood, seeping through the cracks of the old suit leaked down to the floor as the metal suit dropped to the floor, the grunts and coughs from within slowly dying down to above a whisper...

And then it stopped moving.

He looked at it and, though his vocabulary was limited, and thought ' _pathetic_ '.

It wasn't worth even looking at anymore.

Unity.

They all had to come together. They had the moment they died in that room. So when a sort of shimmering tinkle lit in front of the five as the boy approached his friends, he dropped his thumb from his mouth, tapped the hand of the girl who used the yellow body, and unrolled his aching fingers. He had a sort of promise to keep to himself, and to his mama. She stared at them, her eyes empty before she did the same, her bones popping as well before they touch his cold hand and with effort curled them around his palm.

And though it hurt, they all in the end had some form of physical contact.

The light felt warm. It was nice against his body. And while their hurting heads all managed to give each other a look, it was still frightening almost.

All the pain would go away when they would touch the light. He remembers years of daylight forced movement, and nights of using his mind endlessly to force the legs of his heavy temporary body to go forward. And his head would be soothed, his body cleaned, his clothes washed and warm like they would be whenever he'd put them on after his mama took them out of the drier. He wanted that again. They all wanted that again.

And so they all got it.

**Author's Note:**

> Fffff, I had such a love for the good end I had to write about it, ahhh~
> 
> itstrickstersugar.tumblr.com
> 
> I do requests~


End file.
